


A Good Time

by pumpkinpeasy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Castiel, Chef Dean, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Food Sex, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Fruit, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Feeding, Inspired by Hannibal, Kitchen Sex, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Dean, Wine, lewd usage of kitchen ingredients
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpeasy/pseuds/pumpkinpeasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has always been curious as to how his chef lover might prepare him. How he might serve him, what flavour and garnish he'd use. How he would taste. Dean is always happy to oblige his boyfriend's tastes, especially those of food and lovemaking. Or, wherein he and Dean have kinky food sex in the kitchen.</p><p>Entirely porn, dirty talk, and delicious misuse of kitchen ingredients. Inspired by "Hannibal" (TV).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> My first food porn. YAY! You know, normal people get excited about like dates and stuff. Tell me what you think :)

“I’m curious, Dean.” Castiel interjected, as Dean was chopping strawberries into halves. He’d worked up a small pile of the scarlet fruits, before he scooped them up and placed them into a bowl.  
  
For a moment more, Cas watched his love work in the kitchen light, skilled hands moving to place the edge of a sharp knife over a pomegranate. He was so beautiful, especially when he was cooking. The tendons in his hands moved so perfectly, precise as they halved the larger fruit, too.  
  
“Of what, my dear?” he murmured finally. He looked up at Cas, who sat perched on the counter across from the island where Dean worked. He was in only his boxers and shirt, seeming to do so whenever Dean was cooking.  
  
Castiel breathed in deeply, exhaling nice and slow. Dean handled the pomegranate with ease and sense, and scooped out the soft bloody-red seeds from inside the tough shell.  
  
“I want to know how you’d prepare me.” he whispered, crossing his legs playfully, as Dean arched an eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment.  
  
“Prepare you?” he repeated, nodding slowly before resuming gutting the pomegranate. His hands quickly stained purple from the juices, tinging his skin a lovely maroon. “You mean as a meal, I presume.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Of course. Well…” Dean sighed, smiling almost to himself, as he deposited the seeds into the bowl. “I don’t think I should. It would give you nightmares…?”  
  
“I asked, didn’t I?” Castiel urged, straightening up. “As in, how would you make me into a meal; what _flavour,_ do you think I would be?”

“Yes. My love… I think a dish, so fine as yourself, would have to be eaten sweet.” Castiel quirked an eyebrow, mimicking Dean. “Oh, yes. You only deserve to be the finest dessert; the last thing on a man’s mind, and first and foremost when he finishes. Probably be served with something as exotic as yourself… Lychee berries, cherries, and pears.”  
  
Castiel was growing more satisfied. This was the kind of description he was longing for. He felt each word sliding down his spine in a shiver, to rest in his gut; even thinking that Dean had considered Cas’s preparation. His proper layout and palate. “Please... Keep going.”  
  
“If you’d bring me a mangosteen.” he said softly, “I’d be happy to.”  
  
Cas smiled sweetly, and picked one up from the counter, handing it to Dean. “Now, pay attention.” he said, and Cas nodded. Dean cleaved the poor fruit directly in two. “See, the mangosteen, is a lot like how I picture you, sugar.”  
  
“Severed in half?”  
  
“No, no. I mean its taste and texture.” he amended, tracing an absent finger around the fruit’s wound. “Its skin is so soft, but thick and strong. Durable. On the inside, however… It’s even softer, and the flesh is a succulent, segmented white. It’s sweet and desirable, but difficult to get ahold of.”  
  
Cas smirked and blushed at his commentary. “But I bleed and bruise easily.”  
  
“Soft, succulent.” Dean repeated again, his voice dropping an octave or two.  
  
Dean waggled a finger at him in a ‘come-hither’ motion. He got off the counter, walking over to him interestedly. His lover stood before him, knife still in-hand and stained with the juices of fruits he’d chopped moments earlier. His chocolate hair was mussed slightly, scruff awfully appetising as Cas watched his eyes slide intensely over to him.  
  
“I think about this a lot.” Cas commented.  
  
Dean gave him a small, easy smile as he cut out a small wedge of the mangosteen fruit’s white interior. He turned to Cas, cupping his chin in one hand, lifting his head just right. Castiel let his arms drape around Dean’s neck, as he pushed the soft white flesh past Cas’s taffy-pink lips. He chewed almost absentmindedly, as Dean’s eyelashes barely caressed his face. The fruit was tender and juicy, sweet and tangy to the core, just as Dean pictured Castiel, it seemed.  
  
Dean’s hand slid down his side, catching on his shirt, gentle fingers wrapping around his hip. Dean looked longingly into his eyes, those gorgeous greens peering darkly at his target of affection. His whole and his all, his Castiel.  
  
“You’d be beautiful, just lightly…” he murmured, nose ghosting over his cheek, as Cas swallowed. _“...lightly,_ seared. Just enough so I can smell your flavour before I taste it.”

Dean’s scruff was scratchy and rough against his tender cheek, Castiel’s skin pure, unvarnished velvet and silk, beside Dean’s rougher, calloused version. In the muted, yellowish lighting, he could see the light in Dean’s eyes go darker. Cas’s breath hitched as he felt him mouthing slightly at his flushed skin.  
  
“You skin is like the flesh of a blueberry, Cas…” he said, barely more than a whisper, as he let his hand cup Cas’s waist, the other lightly tracing his arm. Goosebumps erupted from the point of contact. “It’s smooth and perfect, but delicate. It needs to be treated with care and attention… I would take some lotion, gently…”  
  
Dean started rubbing small, soothing circles in the small of his back. “...massage it, into your skin. Make sure it was softened even more, and treated with the utmost importance.”  
  
“And then?” Castiel whispered back, fingernails digging flushed crescent marks into Dean’s skin. He knew what was coming next. Wanted Dean to keep talking.  
  
“Then…” Dean took him by the waist, and lifted him onto his working counter. “Then, I would strip you down… moisten every inch of you in a nice olive oil.”  
  
Dean stripped off Castiel’s shirt with a quieted moan, and grabbed him, pulled him closer, leaned forward. Tried to resist sinking a bite right into that beautiful, flawless pale flesh that was so succulent and undoubtedly more tasty than the mangosteen fruit. Any fruit that Dean could name, would never do him justice.  
  
“I’d cover you up in honey and brown sugar, ‘til you get a nice glacé.” he murmured, teething slightly at his collarbone. Finally, his lover couldn’t resist anymore and started sucking a mark into his skin.  
  
Castiel’s cock throbbed hard, his mouth going slack as Dean abandoned his cooking again. It seemed like whenever Cas came into the kitchen, neither ended up getting actual work done. He could feel Dean’s teeth, prepossessing and sharp against his skin, nibbling and nipping ferociously at that one spot.  
  
“Is it wrong that your teeth are beautiful to me?” Cas blurted out, gripping Dean’s shirt at the shoulder. “Ah - D-Do you know how perfect they are? They’re so pretty… just like… little white chiclets.”  
  
Dean finally relinquished the bruised spot. He licked his lips thoughtfully, before leaning Cas back onto the counter. “Lie down.”  
  
Castiel did so, lying flattened against the chilly granite of the counter island, as Dean fondled his boxers for a moment. He felt Dean palming his hot, hard cock just waiting to be freed. Dean hooked his fingers in and stripped away Castiel’s last garment, tossing his underwear aside as his pretty cock bobbed delightfully. Cas let out a lecherous moan, spread out there and Dean’s for the taking. He wanted his gorgeous, loving amour to just keep true to his promises and prepare him, eat him slowly and perfectly, leave nothing; not even the marrow in his bones.  
  
Dean tore away his shirt, throwing it to wherever he’d cast away the other, his Adonis frame there for his lover’s admiration.  
  
Castiel whimpered softly, as Dean walked over to the cabinet. “Dean…”  
  
“Shush, sweetheart. I’m right here.” he promised as he pulled out a bottle of cooking oil. The golden fluid swished nicely inside, and Dean strode back to him.  
  
Castiel writhed slightly, milky thighs still open and pliant to whatever his beloved darling had in mind for him, this night. Dean didn’t twist off the cap, just then. He set the bottle aside, by the fruit, before dipping low and pinning Castiel to the counter. Cas could only see tan skin, green eyes, and smell an alluring musk all over; nothing else, just the sudden wash of Dean, Dean, Dean Winchester.  
  
“Would you like me to?” Dean mumbled against Cas’s chest, kissing languidly. “Eat you nice and slow, right here?”  
  
“Yes… Yes, just eat me!” Cas was practically begging for it, “I want you to. Just fucking bite me to pieces…”  
  
Cas didn’t like the way his voice stuttered towards the end, or the tears in his eyes. But Dean chose to nibble and kitten-lick at his chest, Cas’s head going foggy as his wonderful chef was making a meal out of him. He was biting lightly, open-mouthed at Cas’s stomach, careful because of his skin. He didn’t want to see that skin hurt; that was clear.  
  
His thighs trembled as Dean touched them, as his chef felt the flesh give when he squeezed them. It was perfect, just like this. He’d never had heart before, himself, but he’d heard from Dean that it was really quite gamey and chewy, like other organs. He wondered, in a dark place of mind, what Dean would say his heart tasted like. He suffered for several minutes, the long, deep kisses pressed to his belly, his hands, his arms. Dean lifted one hand to his mouth, and kissed each of Cas’s knuckles, sucking on the fingertips softly.  
  
“Cas…” Dean breathed hot onto his belly. “You’re so beautiful, I could stay here forever, just nibble you to bits.”  
  
“Ohh… No, not forever… Forever is the wrong word, Dean.” Cas said, his voice tense and uneasy. Dean’s eyes traveled upward, as he latched onto a perky, blossom-pink nipple, and Cas let his head fall back. “Dean, please…”  
  
“Shh, shh, shh…” he hushed, still licking and suckling at his rosy bud. “’s okay.”  
  
Cas was reduced to a whimpering, flushed mess, quivering at even the lightest touch. It wasn’t until Dean let off, and started walking away that he grew concerned. His darling reached for the wine, a stunning merlot that he’d saved for quite some time, now. He only saw this upside-down, of course, till he finally sat up. There was a loud _pang!_ as Dean uncorked the wine, and so help Castiel if Dean was going to leave him aroused and dripping on the counter…

His lover came back, a thin sheen of sweat on his chiseled torso, plush lips swollen and prettier than ever.  
  
“Come here.” he murmured, “Beautiful fruits alike.”  
  
Cas leaned forward, Dean pushing the bottle lip into his mouth, tipping it, to let Cas drink. Without a word, he swallowed the thick, strong merlot, sweet and pleasantly tangy, like the mangosteen before it. Dean soon pulled away, letting Cas swallow before he knotted his fingers into Castiel’s dark hair, and pulled his head back to expose his exquisite throat.  
  
Castiel no less than spasmed in his grip, moaning through gritted teeth when Dean started pouring it onto his chest. He spilled the perfect red wine over his choice meal, staining the glamorous pale skin a deep burgundy red as merlot falls flowed down ravishing skin, over perfect bones and muscle, down to soft, slender thighs. Castiel never stopped shaking. The chilled wetness of a fine wine spilling over his body, was incomparable.  
  
“You really want me to make you something.” Dean noted, his tone turning rather pleasant to Cas’s ears. “I have desires, too. So long as I get a say.”  
  
“Make me whatever you want.” Castiel mewled, full lips parted in a sigh of growing ecstasy.  
  
“I’ll make you something magnificent.” Dean promised him, and he heard the man stripping of his remaining clothes, “Something to match that divine body. From your bewitching voice, to your gazelle neck, your most stunning chest, and down further, my love.”  
  
“You missed your calling as a poet.” Cas jested.  
  
“Only because you make me that way, Cas.” Dean whispered, just loud enough for his sweetheart to hear, before he leaned down and licked a long stripe through the staining red.  
  
Cas felt a fine tremor tearing through his body, his neglected cock just aching, as Dean leisurely began licking the wine off him, starting at his shoulder. His tongue and lips moved enticingly wet over his chest, flicking his tongue over sensitive nipples again. Cas threw his head back in a raw groan, as Dean licked up from his collar-notch, up his throat, to his chin, then brought him in for a kiss.  
  
This one wasn’t like the others; it was vicious and dazzling, devouring as Dean worked hungrily over his mouth. Cas bit hard into Dean’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth. He felt Dean’s little gasp as their teeth clacked, and their mouths slotted together again. This was almost better than his commentary; almost better than Dean’s long-awaited recipe, how to serve Cas best. Dean shoved Castiel out of the kiss rather rudely, turning him over and pushing him stomach-down onto the counter.  
  
“Dean! Dean, what…” he began, but it was only in vain. He saw what Dean was reaching for, next.  
  
He twisted off the cap for the olive oil, and spilled some down Cas’s backside, the thick yellowish-green oil running down his crack. It was the most beautiful kind of preparation. Next thing he knew, a cold, wet fingertip was pushing between his cheeks, and tracing around his tight starburst. The bottle was set down, Dean pulling his cheeks apart just a little, before he felt his lover face-deep in his ass. Cas blew out a sigh, as Dean licked and laved over his pucker, tongue twisting just right.  
  
“Oh, God, Dean…”  
  
He only got a moan in reply, Dean mouthing at his hole just arrestingly. He kissed and kitten-licked at it, pushing just the tip of his tongue inside, wiggling it. Dean was always a tease, but this tease was leaving Castiel writhing on the countertop, toes curling as his darling slowly ate him out.  
  
His ass was Dean’s; Dean was the only one who got to eat it, fuck it, finger him ‘til he came. It was a miracle that Cas hadn’t spilled himself already.  
  
His fingers clamped onto the counter edge. Dean’s tongue was soft and pliant against his hole, ensuring a languid feast for his lover. Precum was dripping freely from his cock, into a small puddle on the counter. Dean was rewarded with a small spurt, when he pushed on Cas’s taint, just below his hole.  
  
He licked a wet line up the space of skin, before dipping his tongue back inside the pucker.  
  
“Damnit, Dean, if you don’t finish me, I’ll never forgive you!” he whined. He couldn’t hold it back anymore; Dean was doing this on purpose, and it was tearing him apart.  
  
“Shh, I’m getting there…” he promised.  
  
Then, one wet finger was pushing in and stretching his hole just a bit. He wiggled it inside, a tantalising tease, before slicking another. A few moments passed, and he gently eased the other inside, Cas taking great pleasure in the slight burn. He could hear Dean licking the olive oil off his lips as he tenderly scissored in his ass.  
  
“This is a game, to you?” Cas demanded softly.  
  
“Only because you like it.” he murmured, voice tense with anticipation. “If I had my way, I’d be fucking you to pieces already.”  
  
“Then do it! Just… I can take it.” he mumbled, his words melting into a moan as Dean scissored over his prostate. A small bolt of pleasure rocketed up through his groin, eyes unfocusing for a moment.  
  
He felt Dean slipping his fingers out, leaving him with a disappointing emptiness. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw with lustful, darkened blue eyes, Dean was greasing up his cock with the oil. God, he had such a pretty cock. It was just the right length for him, and fat in a way that Cas always felt the morning after.  
  
Dean pushed him back down, pressing his chest to the counter. Cas felt him rubbing the tender, fattened head of his cock against his hole, before starting to push. His breath quickened, a small burning sensation erupting from down there, as Dean gently worked past the tight ring of muscle and speared Cas on his thick, throbbing cock. Cas pushed back, urging him.  
  
Dean took hold of his hips, and gently sank into Cas’s tight heat, Cas’s body thrumming when he was fully sheathed. He felt the weight and hotness of Dean’s heavy dick, filling him up till he was balls-deep. He traced lightly around Castiel’s stretched hole with one wandering finger.  
  
“Please… Dean, I can’t…” he tried. The urgency was implied.  
  
“I love you so much, sugar.” Dean said, starting with small, timed pulses of the hips. A tiny rocking motion. “You’re so beautiful; all spread out, you taste amazing…”  
  
“It would be my… My pleasure. To have myself eaten by you-- Dean Winchester.” he managed, as Dean was quickening the pace. What had  been small motions, was becoming longer, deeper. He gripped the counter edge till his knuckles blanched white, and his fingers were going numb.  
  
The slick, lewd noises of skin-on-skin greased with olive oil, was so fucking hot Cas couldn’t take it. His cock was pinned painfully between himself and the cold countertop, rubbing hard on each stroke Dean set. He gasped softly, mind thrumming and racing as Dean was quickening yet again, taking to pounding him faster than before. His dick stretched him, speared him, stole his ass in the best was possible. Castiel was all sweat, oil, wine, and pale skin over straining muscles, atop the hot stench of sex.  
  
“Cas… baby-- fuck!” he ground out, teeth clenched. Cas just mewled, loud and long, as Dean was fucking hard and fast. “’s okay… no-one’s gonna hear us.”  
  
Dean’s heavy balls were slapping against his ass, his dick jutting just right at his prostate to make him squirm on him, and cry out. He exclaimed his awe and pleasure by whimpering on each rough, practised fuck, his body being thrust forward.  
  
“A-ah-- ahh! Dean!” he cried softly, mixed with litanies of mews and grunts, “Dean…”  
  
“You’re so gorgeous, baby… Just _gorgeous.”_ Dean groaned, Cas clenching hard around him, his fingers leaving marks on his hips, his shoulders. “I’d love… to just eat you up.”

Cas’s legs strained to keep some grip on the ground, but Dean was pounding so hard he was being jostled on each punch of his hips, to which end he let himself be fucked beyond thinking. He was gripping the counter, shoving back on Dean, just trying to get more of his deliciously thick cock, more of that perfect body. His back arched suddenly, a spasm, when Dean scraped hard over his prostate.  
  
“Ungh-- ohh… God, Dean!” he whined, jaw clenching hard, eyes scrunched shut. Suddenly, there was more olive oil, being drizzled onto his back messily, leaving Castiel to moan hard and long. _“Dean…”_  
  
Dean chuckled hoarsely, starting to rub the oil into Cas’s flesh in time with his hard pounding. On each fuck, his hands would slide up, scrubbing the oil into his soft, tender skin, Cas’s cock throbbing harder each time.  
  
“Dean, I…” he tried, but it dissolved into a litany of whimpers.  
  
“What, baby? ’s the matter?” Dean panted breathlessly, “Gonna come, sugar? You gonna come on my cock?”  
  
Castiel cried out hard, more like a shriek, as he writhed and clenched over and over, his body shaking, long spurts of sticky whiteness spilling from his dick. He threw his head back, spine arching, just gushing over the countertop and slicking his belly, before Dean tensed behind him and suddenly burst.  
  
Dean’s dick throbbed before it was spilling his own seed, thick ropes of molten, sticky fluid filling Cas just perfect. He shuddered and groaned behind Cas, nails scraping down his back, over his ribs, the orgasm slowly ripping through his partner before everything went dark.  
  
  
Castiel woke to feeling Dean gently easing out of him, probably not even realising he’d briefly passed out. His thick, softening cock was slowly pulled out, the hot fluid dribbling freely down Cas’s thighs. Dean tenderly let his legs down, Castiel just allowing them to dangle off the side of the counter. He didn’t have the energy for this.  
  
Dean turned him onto his back, getting a good view of the huge gluppy splatter; not only on him, but on the granite countertop. He squeezed Cas’s shoulder, before tracing a curious finger through the puddle of fresh come, and bringing it to his mouth to suck it off.  
  
“Mm…” Dean hummed his approval. “Just as I thought.”  
  
Cas could only sigh, for the massive thrum in his head.  
  
“Sweet. Just like you.” he murmured with a small smile, before running two fingers through Cas’s come again, and licking them clean. He did it again, and brought them to Castiel’s lips, pushing them past, and letting him taste.  
  
It tasted just barely bitter, but mostly sweet. He sucked on his fingers, tracing one of his own through the film on his belly, and raising it to Dean’s mouth. With a grin, he gladly cleaned it off, suckling on Cas’s finger afterwards. He held it to his mouth, and kissed each finger on that hand.  
  
He then took a damp cloth and cleaned the rest away, come only tasting very good when it’s fresh and warm. He wiped off Cas’s stomach, as well as the backs of his thighs, tender with his dripping, loose hole. Dean had ruined him for all other men. He very well may have, just had the most amazing sex he’d ever experienced, ever would experience. He thought it was over, till he felt something chilled and solid being placed on his chest.  
  
“Dean…?” he murmured sleepily. It was a few halves of the strawberries.  
  
He smirked, and kept placing fruits on Cas’s belly. Blueberries, cherries, and pieces of mangosteen. Some pomegranate seeds were carefully laid on pale flesh, before he took to feeling Cas’s flaccid, spent cock tucked between milky thighs.  
  
“Dean, please… I don’t have the energy for this.” he said, rubbing at his eyes.  
  
Dean just hummed again, and took a piece of strawberry, pushing it into Cas’s mouth. The sweet fruit was chewed as he stared up at bright emerald eyes, swallowed as Dean caressed his long, elegant throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed against Dean’s palm, his partner thumbing over his chin lovingly. He placed a blueberry in Cas’s mouth next, then Castiel was feeding him pieces of fruit from his body, as well.  
  
“I’d love you as a centerpiece.” Dean noted, “You’d be perfect.”  
  
Cas chuckled at his commentary. “Yes, well… Maybe a bath, first?”  
  
Dean looked from the drying olive oil, the tacky reddish film of wine, and fruit juices over them both, before nodding. “Sounds good, sugar. Maybe we could see what some of these fruits _feel_ like, another day.”  
  
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”


End file.
